|Heyyyy,These emails sound like my heart.
I ask, I repeat, I ask again: Why? What has changed?
These empty emails have no voice.
Please, talk with me. Share your words?
For a day, for two for 52 hours?
The truth cannot be screaming any more loudly than your silence.
Painful doubts, repeated questions, replay of the last time we sat together, stood touching, smelled each other’s morning skin. That soft, sleepy skin in the bend of your shoulder, where I rest my head when my eyes are heavy with sleep.
Your friends cannot comfort me. I know your heart. I thought. I. knew. your. heart.
Mine is an reflective pain; the less you share the more I hurt.
My body folds in half. My face contorts.
Okii, yes, I accept it all. Give me your silence.
I’ll hold our wounded, twisted 8 months under the water until we drown.
– T’s gurl
This time, there are tears. Bartender? Another.
#for Reticent Mental Property. Images courtesy of the web.